


Things I Mean to Say

by redqueenequilibrium



Series: Worry is a Quiet Thing [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Goodbyes, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redqueenequilibrium/pseuds/redqueenequilibrium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Felix leaves for Chorus a year before Locus ever starts his own journey there at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things I Mean to Say

The morning Felix is set to leave is a sunny one.

Locus cares little for the perceived meanings people look for in the cues of the weather on days of significance. Today, even, is not an important day, not really - it’s simply the day Felix happens to be leaving.

Once Felix departs from this colony city they’ve called home base for the past three years, Locus won’t see him again until his own scheduled arrival on the destination of their mission one earth-year and some scattered days later.

If Felix is unlucky, during this time, caught in the crossfire by miscalculation or chance or mistake, Locus will never see him again.

He banishes the thought as he watches Felix kick around his supplies, pulling on his armour piece by piece as he paces in this empty room.

 _Stay safe_ , is what he thinks, as he double-checks the supplies and additions attached to the pieces of Felix’s custom armour, watching his partner ready his arms for war.

 _I’ll miss you_ , is what he means, when he reminds Felix of the frequencies for contact and the timeline of their operation for the year he’ll be alone, on the surface of Chorus, delicately priming and taking hold of the puppet strings that will allow them to later direct the progression of conflict as they please.

“Don’t get careless,” is what he says, as Felix stands by the door to this room in the private space port Control has ordered cleared out for him, to get ready before he is ushered onto the transport that will take him out to the far reaches of colonized space.

Felix grins, eyes bright with excitement, not even a little annoyed at Locus’ overbearing micromanagement of his supplies, “Relax, asshole,” he says, striding forward with a cheeky grin, “Hey, I survived a war against a ruthless alien scourge. What’s another civil conflict between men?”

Locus frowns. His cocksure attitude and arrogance will get him killed, one day, if he’s not careful. “If you die, the operation means nothing,” he says, quietly, of how important Felix’s role is in the setup. What he means, however, is something far more personal as he studies the angles and lines of the features of his partner’s face, to memorize what he won’t be able to see for the next 365-odd earth-time measured days.

“Then I won’t die,” Felix says, as simply as that, stopping in front of Locus, a hair’s breath between them, “Wouldn’t want to spoil your grand arrival on the planet, would I?”

Locus gives a huff of amusement, turning his head to the side, though the joke does little to settle the anxiety low in his chest.

“Hey,” Felix says, to get his attention. Then he leans forward, tilting his head up as Locus turns to face him, and planting a swift peck on his lips, “Try not to miss me,” he grins, as he falls back on his heels with a clack, the metal of his boots ringing against the concrete, the act teasing and playful and meaningless while he remains all too ignorant of the jolt in Locus’ heart and the fluttering in his chest.

Locus doesn’t think, as Felix starts to turn away. He simply moves - grabs a hold of Felix’s arm as he turns, yanking him back towards him to grab hold of his face, capturing his lips in a kiss laden with far more meaning than the one Felix had bothered to impart on him as a good bye.

He presses forward with his intentions, tries to communicate in the press of his tongue, the movement of his lips, the things he thought but couldn’t say, the things he meant in the way he fussed over the plan and the preparations and the instructions he gave.

He kisses until Felix relaxes, melting into his touch and clutching at the front of his shirt, closing his eyes and pushing forward off the floor with the balls of his feet to give as much as he’s been given, to tangle their tongues and dig the sharp corners of his armour into Locus’ chest as he presses back, making soft sounds of pleasure as Locus presses his palms into his jaw and holds him still to impart on him this final message.

He leaves Felix panting in the aftermath, out of breath and half bewildered after the intensity of it, clutching still at Locus’ shirt as he backs away almost reluctantly, the excitement in his eyes from before now tempered, as he stares at Locus half with lust and half in mild confusion, teasing smile gone, eyes wide, searching his features for the answer to a question he’s only just started to ask.

After a moment, a beat of silence, he tilts his head down and laughs, tapping his fist lightly against Locus’ chest as he steps back, “Fuck,” he whispers, “you couldn’t have done that before I got all armoured up?” he grins, and the moment is lost, “You think we have time for a quickie before I go?”

Locus rolls his eyes, shoving him back, though with the unyielding weight of his armour, it’s hard to get Felix to back off more than half a step, “See you in a year,” says, clearly, finished saying all the things he meant through action rather than words.

“Yeah,” Felix replies, taking dancing steps back to grab his helmet off his bags, donning it as he reaches the door, “I’ll make it a party,” he says, voice filtering through after it’s on and secured, muddling his voice under a layer of static, “Welcome you with a bang.”

Locus replies with a sigh, crossing his arms as Felix grabs hold of his things.

For a moment, Felix pauses at the door, staring at Locus through the inscrutable sheen of his visor. Locus stares back, watching him stand still, ready to go, but stalling for whatever reason while the transport waits impatiently outside in the docking bay.

“What,” he says, flatly, after what he’s deemed is long enough a time to watch.

“Nothing,” Felix turns abruptly turning to leave as the door slides open, “Just thinking, last minute thoughts,” He gives a sarcastic wave, half a salute, the jerk of his hand at his brow as much a dismissal as a goodbye, “ _Tchau_ , asshole,” he crows as he leaves, “See you in a year.”

Locus doesn’t watch Felix board the nondescript transport Control has set up for him to take, nor does he watch the ship leave. Instead he turns his back to return to the apartment to set up a secure line to inform Control of their mission’s official start.

As he heads back, he lets himself dwell on the pauses between Felix’s movements, the hesitance to leave despite his excitement to start, the expression of his face after Locus’ goodbye kiss.

Locus smiles to himself - a brief quirk of the lip and a warmth in his chest.

Let Felix puzzle the meanings of behind it on his flight to the forgotten colony he’ll spend a year on this mission alone.

Perhaps after a year of thinking, he’ll know.

**Author's Note:**

> also on [tumblr](http://redqueenequilibrium.tumblr.com/post/104112743283/things-i-mean-to-say)


End file.
